


Fitzroy's Theme

by Acting4Hope



Series: Unbroken Bonds [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Backstory, Changeling Fitzroy, Chaos!Fitzroy, Minor Character Death, Unbroken Bonds AU, fitzroy become evil in this one teehee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24888799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acting4Hope/pseuds/Acting4Hope
Summary: Ridin' 'round town, they gon' feel this oneHeironymous is dead. Fitzroy strikes a deal.A story begins to unfold.
Relationships: Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt & Chaos (The Adventure Zone)
Series: Unbroken Bonds [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800943
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	Fitzroy's Theme

**Author's Note:**

> HMMMMM hi. so i keep telling myself i'm gonna write more changeling fitzroy stuff, and then i do literally Anything but. i blame my weak argo voice hjgbrghjgrbhjrg
> 
> SO ANYWAY this is the sort of, i guess you can call it prelude?? to a greater AU concept me and my gf (@maplekeene on tumblr) have been devising in dm's we have titled: Unbroken Bonds. there's a lot more i can say about it, but really y'all should just look at [this art my gf made](https://maplekeene.tumblr.com/post/621286360646647808/design-comparisons-from-normal-to-a-fun-au-me-and) instead <3 i do have more planned to map out to sort of preface the greater au, but also i have no idea if this will be a growing series or not bc i'm not good with those 
> 
> the title is a direct remake of [IGOR'S THEME by Tyler, the Creator ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6S20mJvr4vs)because it felt fitting! since that song begins the album, and this fic begins the story! sorry for so many of my works to be titled after his music i can't help my brainrot hgrbjhrgj
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoy!! if this au idea interests you, feel free to ask me (or my gf @maplekeene on tumblr) about it!! it will honestly help us map out the narrative. anyway love yall <3

So Heironymous is dead. 

Well, that’s not right, _fake_ Heironymous is dead. Blasted to smithereens in a miserable heap in his office. 

And Fitzroy did it. Fitzroy killed the man--no, the _demon_ \--he now stands in front of. 

There are several things wrong with this. 

The first being, Fitzroy hadn’t meant to do it. Honestly! Hand to the gods, Fitzroy’s intentions when entering Heironymous’s office were _not_ to kill him. He was summoned for a special meeting, after spending several months avoiding the headmaster’s existence like the plague. They talked of many things--of history, of theology, of philosophy, of _war_ \--before Fitzroy felt he was being threatened. And so they fought, as Fitzroy is prone to do when his sense of self is challenged. Therein lies the second problem; it was not a quiet affair. 

Spells were hurled, weapons were thrust, bookcases were knocked over. Fitzroy fought the demon tooth-and-nail, with more passion than he’s ever felt before. And maybe that’s why his thunderwave morphed into a thunderbolt in his hands, electrocuting the fake Heironymous with the fury of a thousand storms. Leaving him a charred corpse on the ground, along with the general vicinity a smoking mess. As Fitzroy looms over the felled demon, his heartbeat returning to rest, he realizes the third problem: 

Nobody knows this Heironymous was fake. 

Well, once again, not entirely true. The Thundermen know he isn’t real, just as much as they know the canine identity of the true one. But the school? The city? The _people_? To them, this was the real deal. 

And Fitzroy just killed him in a rage. 

So, needless to say, he starts running. Out the window of “Heironymous’s” office, featherfalling himself to the ground before immediately taking off in a sprint towards the woods. It’s only a matter of time before the school finds out--he could already hear footsteps making their way towards the office when he escaped. He knows that whatever excuse he could’ve made would not matter to whoever found him beside the corpse of demon Heironymous. The legacy of the _real_ man is enough to make any act of violence _this_ heinous an immediate arrest. And then where would that leave him? Cold, alone, and rotting in a prison cell until the courts decide what to do with him. The world would hate him, and he would never be known as anything other than an uncontrollable monster who killed their beloved Heironymous Wiggenstaff. 

Except he _isn’t_ dead because a _demon_ replaced him, so how would that be fair!? Imprisoning the guy who took down the hidden evil planning to destroy Nua!? Where would the justice be in that? If anything, Fitzroy’s just done them all a _favor_. 

Fitzroy feels his anger boil up in his gut, turning the adrenaline in his veins to pure fire. By this point, he’s already well into the Unknown Forest. Any thoughts of the dangers that may lurk in the forest don’t even cross his mind as Fitzroy continues to run and think. 

He didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. He’s not even sure the others know he’s gone for good; the last he spoke with Argo and the Firbolg was before he was summoned to Heironymous’s. They had no idea this altercation was going down; no way of knowing the grand pile of shit Fitzroy was about to step into. He’s sure they’ll be able to figure out what happened; Argo’s got a way of putting the pieces together faster than most, and the Firbolg won’t be too far behind. They’ll know Fitzroy’s innocent. 

Too bad they can’t tell anyone, lest they go up against the entirety of the school. Higgelmas still hasn’t gotten the transmutation spell to work, so Heironymous remains a dog for the foreseeable future. Not only that, there’s no guarantee other staff members weren’t working for the fake Heironymous, so his influence could still be present even after his death. That eliminates any opportunity for Higgelmas to reveal the truth. Which leaves Fitzroy, sprinting through the woods, with the short end of the stick. 

Behind him, the distant wail of sirens pierce through the calm quiet of the Unknown Forest. 

Ah, a body has been discovered! Which means there’s _really_ no turning back now. 

With that in mind, Fitzroy keeps running. 

\---

The moon is hanging high in the sky when Fitzroy finally stops. Having cleared a sizable distance between himself and the school, he allows exhaustion to sink into his bones. He collapses in a small clearing, gasping for breath he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. His body aches--his _mind_ aches--and he craves the comfortable bed he left behind. All he has now are leaves and the cold, hard dirt. He thinks, briefly, of the Firbolg. He smiles. 

And then, he breaks. 

“ _Why_ ,” Fitzroy cries into the dirt, angrily clenching the leaves that quickly turn to dust in his palms. “Why am _I_ always getting the shit end of life!? I-I was working _hard_ \-- _been_ working hard--and I thought...I thought I was _getting somewhere_!” The tears that stream down his face are not ones of sorrow, but of blistering fury. Static begins to crackle around him as he succumbs to the bitter anger that’s been churning inside. 

“My _whole life_ , I’ve been working towards something better,” Fitzroy grits his teeth, head pressing into the earth. “And this is the thanks I get!?! Forced to _flee_ my life, my friends, my _future_ because I got caught in the middle of something I _never asked to be in_!? Why is it that--no matter _what_ I do, no matter how _hard_ I work, no matter the anguish I push myself through--life always turns around and kicks me in the gut!? Huh!? Where’s _my_ happiness!? Where’s _my_ reward!? Where--” Thunder booms in the distance as his rage makes way for sorrow. 

“Where’s my _purpose_ …” He mutters, finally rolling over to face the sky. The moon is now covered by dark storm clouds, thick enough to produce rain. Yet another insult to injury. He squeezes his eyes shut, pushing out any excess tears as the reality of his fate now unravels before him. 

If he isn’t found by morning, he’ll have to keep running. Eventually, he’ll run out of woods, which will mean he’ll need to find somewhere to hide. Hiding in plain sight means he’ll have to change identities, stripping himself of years of life in an instant. Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt will be assumed dead and no one will mourn him. A dishonorable traitor who killed their _beloved_ Heironymous: that will be his legacy. No knighthood, no villainy, _nothing_ to come of his years of hardship. His mother will weep and wonder where she went wrong; his friends will all move on. In a few years time, Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, Knight in Absentia of the Realm of Goodcastle will be forgotten. 

A single raindrop lands on Fitzroy’s nose and he breaks into sobs once more. 

_Oh my, I didn’t think a little rain would make you_ that _upset!_ A voice coos through the air around him. Fitzroy opens his bloodshot eyes and comes face-to-face with Chaos. _There you are! How’s my favorite weapon of mass destruction~? Have a rough day? You seem to be pretty far from home, did something--_

“ _Chaos_ , I would really appreciate it if you’d can your blithering and get to the point.” Fitzroy spits at them, sitting up. “You _know_ what happened today.” Chaos’s form is different (as it is most times they meet), a bit more wispy and ghost-like. Their signature cloud of hair seems to dissolve at its ends, the hue of it resembling the shifting colors of a dark stormcloud. They grin, amused at Fitzroy. 

_Ah, right. Your little...tete a tete with the “headmaster”._ Chaos says, their body morphing into the rough shape of the demon Heironymous for a moment before returning to normal. _I have to say, Fitzroy,_ bravo _on magic usage today! The way you turned that man into a smoldering pile of nothing is_ exactly _the kind of thing I’ve been going for! And, oh, the disorder you brought~ With no headmaster to run the school now, who_ knows _what will happen next!_ Fitzroy feels his stomach turn at the thought; he hadn’t even considered the chaos he’d left behind. Surely, it won’t be _that_ big of a deal, right? 

...Right? 

“What do you _want_ , Chaos?” Fitzroy asks curtly. Chaos giggles--a disturbing blend of wind whistling and the howling of wolves. 

_Nothing much._ They reply, sinking their form onto a boulder in front of Fitzroy. _I was more wondering what_ you _may want from_ me _._ Fitzroy furrows his eyebrows at this, confused. 

“Wh--What do you mean, what _I_ may want from you?” Chaos’s grin splits wider as they lean down, their body extending beyond human capabilities to be nose-to-nose with Fitzroy. Unnerved, he scoots back an inch. 

_Well, it’s all over, isn’t it?_ They innocently ask. Fitzroy feels the anger from earlier bubble up his throat. _Your schooling, your career, your future--really your whole_ life _, if I’m being frank. Luckily, I’m not being Frank, I’m Chaos!_

“That was--really, that was just a _bad_ joke.” Fitzroy rolls his eyes, causing the deity to giggle again. This time, it’s like the chittering of squirrels mixed with the crunching of leaves. 

_Oh, boohoo, you whore._ Chaos pouts. _That’s besides the point. What I’m trying to convey here is that everything you’ve worked for is poof! Gone without a trace! And now you’re stuck out here, in the cold, all alone--and for_ what _? An act of justice? Of revenge for the disfigured Heironymous? Is that_ really _what you deserve, Fitzroy?_

“I--” The rage continues to climb up his body, as he shakily wipes tears from his face. “ _No_ , it’s _not_.” 

_And yet, that’s been the outcome every time, hasn’t it?_ Chaos’s tone turns from mocking to understanding, their head moving back to join their body as they get down from the boulder to kneel in front of Fitzroy. _When you were forced to hide your true self. When your extended family turned you away. When your father left. When you got kicked out of knight school. It’s all been terribly unfair for you, hasn’t it?_ Fitzroy nods along the entire time, thinking back on his life. All the times he’s been picked on, pushed around, and made to feel like nothing. The bitter taste of rage tickles the back of his throat as he chokes down tears. Chaos tuts and shakes their head before moving closer to Fitzroy, long fingers that curl into nothing at their tips coming to cradle Fitzroy’s head. For once, Chaos does not feel intangible. They feel warm, inviting--like the hot air coming off a fireplace after a long day in the cold. 

_Unfortunately, my dear, that’s just how this world is to beings like us._ Chaos coos, passing fingers through Fitzroy’s hair as he leans further into their touch. _They don’t understand our power, Fitzroy. Our..._ uniqueness _. They try to cram us into boxes that simply will never fit! And when that doesn’t work, they punish us by making us feel weak and unknown. You don’t_ deserve _to be unknown, Fitzroy. You...are_ magnificent _._ They tilt his head up to look into their eyes. _You deserve statues resembling your likeness, tomes written about your every adventure,_ songs _vocalizing the weight of your worth!_

“B-But I don’t want that…” Fitzroy mutters, breaking out of the trance he feels put under. “I-I just want to be remembered as something _greater_ . Something that did _good_ \--” 

_\--But what has this world done to deserve your goodness?_ Chaos continues. _I understand that the riches and endless fame isn’t what you_ want _, Fitzroy. I apologize for going on such a tangent, but my point still stands. What has the world done for you, Fitzroy, to deserve your kindness in turn? From my perspective, it looks like all they’ve done is_ used _you until you no longer served their purpose, and then cast you away when you were dried up. I know you desire_ justice _, but what part of what I’ve just described is just? You want to make a_ change _, but this world has barricaded you from every path you’ve ever tried to take! Leaving you_ here _, to be forgotten or scorned…_

The static in the air crackles as Fitzroy stands up, hair puffing out in his rage. The tips of his fingers spark with electricity as he clenches his fists, looking down at Chaos with fire in his eyes. 

“ _Yes_ , Chaos, I _understand_ .” Fitzroy booms, his voice carried by the weight of his rage. “If there’s anyone out here in this godforsaken forest who knows how _shit_ I’ve been treated, it’s _me_ . I _understand_ how many times I’ve been prevented from reaching my prime. I _know_ how many opportunities have been _ripped_ from me for _stupid_ reasons. B-But what am I supposed to do about it, Chaos!? What path is there for me to take when all have been taken from me!?” He’s so lost in his fury that he doesn’t register Chaos’s movement until their hand is outstretched in front of him, having stood back up to full height. He stares at it for a moment, then back to Chaos’s unnerving grin. 

_Make your own path._ They answer, simply. **_Join me._ **

Fitzroy’s rage drops in an instant as he stares back at Chaos’s hand, a worry-line setting in his brow. Under any other circumstances, the answer would be simple. He’s been offered a thousand times already, and the answer has never wavered. No, no, _no_ . He _shouldn’t_ ; it goes against _everything_ he’s ever stood for. But, looking at their hand now, the answer suddenly feels...uncertain. 

_This world has lost its privileges to your kindness. They don’t deserve the good you would have brought them. Join me and you can finally start doing things for_ you _._ Chaos allures, their grin growing past the limitations of their face. _I’m not asking you to start blowing up buildings for the sake of evil, but there is more than one way to skin a chicken, if you know what I mean. You could create your_ own _legacy; free from the limitations of “knighthood” or “heroism” or “villainy”. You can be...Fitzroy._ Just _Fitzroy. I can help you break the shackles the world has placed on you! All you have to do is_ **_shake my hand_ ** _._ Fitzroy feels like he’s been thrust onto an empty stage, thousands of eyes watching his every movement. 

How many more offers will come his way, now that he’s lost it all? How many more opportunities to do good--to do _different_ \--will he have? Chaos has never asked Fitzroy to do things beyond his limitations, or be an entirely new person. In this moment, all they seem to really want is for Fitzroy to...be Fitzroy. To give in to the whims of his impulses and be...well, for lack of a better word, _chaotic_. 

And after all these years of fighting it, he’s ready to give in. 

Lightning strikes a tree, setting it ablaze, as mortal hand makes contact with celestial. Fitzroy feels a wide grin stretch across his features as he looks up at Chaos, a weight free from his shoulders. 

“Alright, Chaos,” he says, “Where do we go from here?” 

\---

They go to the Godscar Chasm, still far enough from the school that no one notices his presence. Chaos gestures to the chasm and lets Fitzroy’s newly-enhanced magic run _wild_. It erupts in bolts and sparks, creating earth between the chasm and erecting a phantasmal castle on its surface. Full of fineries and riches beyond Fitzroy’s imagination, along with a plush throne made of deep burgundy fabrics with gold accents. 

Fitzroy takes a seat on his throne and feels a swell of pride. Chaos perches over the throne and smiles down at their weapon becoming more and more acquainted with his abilities. He kicks his feet over the armrest and stares up at the chandelier on the ceiling made of iridescent crystals. 

Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt killed Heironymous Wiggenstaff and ruined his life forever. 

But now, seated on a throne of his own design, Fitzroy kills his past and makes way for a future of his own creation. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this or any of my other works, then feel free to let me know on [my tumblr](https://lesbian--susie.tumblr.com/)!!!! I am always open for requests, theories, or just general clownery on there!!! Also comments and kudos are always appreciated <3


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